Riddle Me This, Puzzle Me That
by LilyHellsing
Summary: Every time he was close to beating the Batman, the hero would win from luck like some comic book character! This time Riddler decided to get his hands dirty & send a message; He will win no matter what the price. Or at least...that was what he hoped.
1. Prologue

**Summary: It made him sick to his stomach. Every time he was close to beating the Batman, the hero would win from luck like some comic book character! Well this time Riddler decided to get his hands dirty, to stop gloating & building up suspense and sending a message; He will win this time. Or at least…that is what he wished to do.**

**Trinity Hariton came from a family that was flooded by wealth but had a drought of love. Typical of a rich family but instead of going out and cramming drugs down her throat like some, Trinity was like a female in th late 19****th**** century. She was quiet, modest, virtuous, and at first glance ready to submit to whatever Fate had in store for her. One day she decides to break free from the rules that suffocate her. Skipping her private school, she soon regrets ever thinking she could be wild. **

**Taken by some madman obsessed with puzzles, Trinity experiences a bit more 'adventure' then what she hoped for originally. Riddler is determined to win against this…Batman character, even at the cost of the young girl's life.**

**She must riddle herself out of this puzzle before it's too late…**

**Disclaimer: I own no one except for Trinity Hariton.**

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Anyone could take a girl of high importance and demand a ransom. It was so simple that even a retarded criminal could do it; of course that meant they would be found from leaving too many mistakes, but still. The point was, anyone could do it.

It took a real genius to ransom a girl while, at the same time, creating a complex puzzle. A maze of questions would determine just how much the girl's family, her friends, would want her. If they were determined to get her back, they would answer every riddle to gain her, as well as lose money, back. If they gave up…well obviously she wasn't that important.

That was how one Edward Nygma thought. It was a comforting one that shifted part of the blame off his shoulders and onto the loved ones. In truth, he wasn't a bad man. He was a gentleman, or tried to be with his victims didn't put up a fight, and always tried to be kind. It was a twisted sort of kindness that was branded 'Nygma' but it was kindness nevertheless.

Was he a sociopath for doing such?

No.

Was he mental in the head?

No.

Was he a bastard for even planning this?

Perhaps.

What he may or may not be at the present time did not matter. What did matter was that pretty soon he would be a rich man, one who could afford a decent lair…and perhaps gain respect from the other villains. They were like high school clichés; jocks, nerds, snobs…just really evil. If he pulled this off, received the money, and even killed (or unmasked) Batman, this could be a real breaker for him.

Oh yes, he could imagine it now…

Riddler needed to work out a few things like the riddles themselves and his trap for the Batman…but his mind was definitely on one thing. He would kidnap the heiress Trinity Hariton and he would win.

It made him sick to his stomach. Every time he was close to beating the Batman, the hero would win from luck like some comic book character! Well this time Riddler decided to get his hands dirty, to stop gloating & building up suspense and sending a message; He will win this time.

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Next chapter: Trinity's life at a glimpse, her personality at a glimpse of a glimpse. The Riddler eyes her as she attends school and home…and leaves her a few hints of what is to come. Review please.


	2. Normal Morning

**Well, I hope this chapter isn't too predictable. Let's see…**

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"Mademoiselle Trinity, it is time to awaken." A living alarm clock repeated itself as it did every morning. Its name was Antoinette Depuoi but she was commonly called 'you there, maid!' To the girl she had to serve, she was just called Annie for short.

The young lady she had to wait on was named Trinity Hariton and she had been under Antoinette's care ever since she was a babe of couple of months. As her accent hinted, the maid of twenty something was from France…they all were. It was some sort of financial reason that moved the Hariton's, and their servants, to America. For the past 17 blissful years, Antoinette watched over, took care, and protected Trinity as though her mistress's child were her own.

Said girl shifted under the heavy quilts, obviously reluctant to awake. When Antoinette repeated herself a bit later, the girl pulled the covers over her head. It seemed impossible that the quilt could drown out talking, but it amazed others when it did exactly that!

Placing her hands on her hips, the woman warned, "Mademoiselle Trinity, you have until the count of three to get up. If not, I'll make you get up." Trinity had yet to miss one day of school and the one time that she would, Antoinette would not be responsible for it. Not that her parents really noticed anyway.

"Un…Deux…Trois...Time's up!" With her warning being stated loudly, muffled to the girl's ears, she yanked a large show-pillow from the bed. The drowsy bundle was oblivious to what was happening until she felt the rather weighty pillow smash her. Again and again, she was hit and soon grew fully awake. "Ready to get up?!" The maid laughed as she paused, catching her breath.

"…you have a horrible knack for pulling me out of my best dreams." Trinity's gravelly voice answered her question. Sitting up, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes before searching for the one that abused her with a pillow. When her green eyes landed on said person, she shook her head. "What would my mother say if she knew you hit an heiress with a pillow of all things?"  
"Probably she would say 'good job maid' since I got you up." Smiling slightly, she clapped her hands twice to stop Trinity's mind from retreating back to rest. "Now, get dressed. Breakfast is downstairs." With this said, the pink tailed woman walked off.

At first, the thought that sprinted through her mind consisted of five letters; sleep. Then at seeing her calendar, realizing it was only Tuesday, she groaned and threw herself out of bed, forcing her body to snap to alarm. Catching herself with grace she could never seem to muster elsewhere, she walked to her dresser and flung out the expected school uniform.

Her dark red hair looked frizzy by nature but this time somehow became an afro. It was probably because of that pillow sneak attack! Brushing it to the best of her ability, she quickly threw her clothes on and put on some lip gloss. Both of her parents were stunning and, therefore, should have produced an equal if not more stunning child. Yet their traits put together…was far from stunning.

Trinity's nose was too small for her chin; her eyes were very pretty, like an almond, but her slightly thick lips made them seem small. Just because nature was mean, her hair was always frizzy. Her skin was an annoying creamy pale both from her parent's genes and from staying indoors a lot. Although she loved to play sports, and had the muscles under her long sleeved uniform to prove it, she didn't like to go out in the sun and sweat while playing them.

Smoothing her skirt that barely reached her knees, revealing her not-so-model-muscular-legs, she took one glance at the mirror and left. Down the swirling stairs she went barefooted, recalling the one time she choose to wear the school's socks and slid down on her bottom. Just recalling it gave her bum a sore feeling.

"Annie, what's quick to eat on the go?" Trinity called out before she hit the last step, twirling to her left to enter the dining room.

A soon as she walked into the area, an apple went flying right to her forehead. Yelping, she caught it blindly and closed her eyes, waiting to feel it hit her and make applesauce. It took her a few seconds to realize that yes, she did catch it. "…Thanks." She said sarcastically before biting into it.

"That wasn't for you," Antoinette peaked her head out of the kitchen door she had just retreated to, "that was for the horses; you need to feed them before you leave."

Groaning, she said, "Well, better give me a new one…you know how Star hates to eat anything bitten."

"And what do you want?" Antoinette asked as she tossed another apple over to her.  
Wincing at the taste of the apple, she stated, "Something to rid my tongue of this awful rotten thing!"

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The limo she was forced to take was too cold. As soon as she stepped in it after feeding her two horses, her legs protested against staying. Sadly though it was a rule by her father; the limo must always been below 70 degrees. Why? Because he was large and therefore, his fat soaked up and stored heat, making him highly uncomfortable.

"Morning Ms. Hariton." The driver, Bill, smiled at her in the mirror. "Off to the mall?" He joked as per usual, "Or would you rather go to Japan for a few weeks?"

Grinning at his light spirits, she shook her head. "I wish. To school of course." She sat back and rubbed her arms, her book bag and textbooks next to her. She failed to see the point of having to have a book bag when the school preferred students to carry their books, giving them an appearance of…intelligence, maybe.

Shows how intelligent the school was.

As soon as she stepped out and waved a temporary farewell to her driver, she felt eyes on her. It wasn't the normal eyes of fellow students seeing another rich kid arrive. It was…it was a darker gaze. It was one that made her tense and look about like a timid mouse searching for a cat.

Yet no one out of the ordinary was there.

Sighing, she pushed her bushy hair into a ponytail and adjusted her feather book bag on her shoulders. Maybe it was just from lack of food that morning…maybe it was from being up so late last night. Either way, she gave brushed off the paranoia and walked up the leading stairs.

When her fingertips touched the door handle, she paused. This time instead of being slow, she spun around and let her olive eyes sweep the area. There was a slight shift across the street…what was that? An animal? Or a person?

Who would want to spy on her though? There were a dozens of dozens of other kids with wealthy parents here…why her? Or maybe she was just jumping to conclusions. It could just be a raccoon, an animal…or a beggar from the streets.

The sound of the tardy bell made her jump nearly out of her shoes and yelp. Placing a hand over her heart, she felt it race as she trembled. Closing her eyes, she shook her head and quickly ran inside hoping not to be late.

As she ran, she failed to notice a certain man chuckle at her startled reaction.

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Next chapter: Right to the action; Riddler kidnaps her. Reviews would be liked!


	3. Oh Boring School!

**Thanks to ****Vytina**** for reviewing!**

**I decided instead of making it the simple 'grab and go' tactic, I'll build up a bit more of 'Trinity time' and make the kidnapping twice as good!**

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Closing her eyes, Trinity felt the familiar sense of boredom overcome her. By noon it would become a scarf and suffocate her as it did every day. Pathetic as it may be, it had become something of a daily ritual. Like the times from long ago, as she learned in World History, this ritual required a bit of a sacrifice every time it occurred. This meant that with each school day that passed, a small piece of Trinity's sanity slipped away and was stabbed viciously for a sacrifice. Why? Because that was just what school did.

And along with her sanity went her patience. This showed itself as proof by her glares growing sharper like a rock against a knife when people annoyed her. Silent she was though anti-social she wasn't; however, these looks soon pushed away even those she called acquaintances, the people she talked to just to pass time. Although it happened unconsciously, Trinity both hated and liked it. It let her be free to daydream deeply while on the other hand left her…well, alone.

Either way, her grades did not suffer. Whether she spent all her spare time gossiping with other girls or writing every word out of the teacher's mouth, she managed to keep her solid A's. Unlike those who poured heart and soul into studying, she was lucky enough to just look at something once or twice and get it instantly.

Naturally this brought on a great deal of jealousy and moochers to her door.

Somehow though, she ignored it all. These past few days, which in Trinity Language meant weeks, her mind was so deep in the clouds that she barely noticed people moving around her.

Almost constantly she imagined herself breaking the rules for once and just walking out. Walking out of this school, of her home and just…roam around and have fun. She would ignore her parent's unattached voices when she rarely heard them, she'd dismiss the bickering students and roll her eyes at demanding teachers. Just the thought of knowing school was in session while she went shopping or traveled to another city, state, or country…oh how it sent chills down her spine!

So that was how she spent the better part of her day. Thinking and wondering and pondering 'what if'. Daydreaming of the impossible caused her ache for freedom to heighten like senses during a dangerous situation. Oh she needed to get out!

The bell rang.

And just like that, another day was wasted, passing by quietly. Just like that, she was indeed free to go…but it was not the same kind of thrill. The adventure she wanted was to break the rules, not be allowed to go home. A sigh left her lips; maybe tomorrow she would gather the nerve to travel somewhere.

But that was something she always told herself. It was the same damn thing she repeated to herself at the end of every school day as she gathered her books at a snail like pace. It echoed in her head like a false promise and in truth, that was what it really was! In the back of her mind she knew fairly well, very well, that she wouldn't have the guts to do such a thing. She could only…dream.

Lightly running a hand through her frizzy hair, flinching when she was reminded of her nails, awareness suddenly came to her like a slap upside the head. No one was here, not even the teacher! Just how long had she been standing half bent over her desk, holding her rather weighty textbook halfway in her bag? Though the school frowned upon that during school hours, after school hours was over all the students did it. Their arms were stronger from carry three, four, sometimes up to six, textbooks all day and on their travel home, they gave their arms a break. Trinity's own limbs may look pathetically weak and thin but in fact she proved she could flip a man of over 180 pounds with ease.

Sliding the last book into her bag, she flung it carelessly over her shoulder and instantly regretted it. The bag fell back and pulled the unsuspecting owner with it, making her 'oomph' and fall backwards. The ground was hard but falling on multiple books of a slide hurt more. By sheer luck her head did not hit the ground but nearly did, her hand landing the wrong way.

She knew not just how long she had been in a daze but when the pretty colors ceased to dance before her, she blinked. Her right wrist pulsed with agony every few seconds, the kind where it made her tempted to cry. Pulling herself together, Trinity stood and cautiously walked out the doors, her bum sore. Well on the plus side, no one witnessed such a humiliating fling and fall. Not only was her body injured but her pride was as well.

As was the norm, the limo waited on the side of the sidewalk nearly alone. There was another limo, one less…new, in a sense, across the street. Who did that belong to? It was rare for anyone to park across the street…kids were so anxious to get out that the limos would be zooming by. Trinity's lips curled downwards ever so slightly, just enough to show confusion and displeasure.

Pushing it aside for now, she quickly went into her own vehicle and smiled at her driver. A smile was returned though it looked a bit painted on which was understandable…after all, she had made them wait quite a while. The limo was pulling away from the curb slowly, clearly making sure there were no other cars. As they drove off, Trinity glanced out and eyed the other suspicious one as though it were a predator waiting to pounce her.

It felt like an hour before they reached the house. Sighing softly she carried the bag inside the building and looked around the place she called home. Instantly she heard Antoinette call out, "Mademoiselle Trinity? Is that you? How was l'école?" Though the years had passed, she still added a few French words into her English. "What do you wish to eat, ma petite?"

"Bonjour Antoinette!" Trinity said with her voice raised slightly; it didn't take much for her to be heard across the house. "Uh..I'll have some ramen tonight. Maybe with a soda." She walked over, dropping her brick full carrier on the ground with a loud thud.

"And…?" The maid pressed on with the not-so-subtle hint that she wanted her ward to eat something healthy.

Sighing with a bit of annoyance, she thought about it and finally said, "I'll have a pomme for dessert. Happy?"

"Oui!" Grinning widely, she quietly skipped to the kitchen to make the simple dinner for one related to someone so grand. "Your parents are out, some ball, they will not arrive until late tonight."

Rolling her olive eyes, she sat at the fine table only to be served a simple meal. "Typical." She mused quietly before shaking her head. As she dug into the food, she thought faintly and wondered if her parents would notice her missing.

Perhaps tomorrow she really would skip school…maybe.

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Next chapter: Caught skipping, she now has evening detention…but what should happen when question marks are plastered all around the rooms and halls? Review please!

Translation: l'école – school; pomme – apple


	4. Detention

**Thanks to LR and CaffinH for reviewing!!**

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Oh how could she have been caught?!

Trinity slammed her head onto the desk without a care as to if she hurt herself or made a literal impression on her forehead. A groan left her lips partly from the brief pain as well as partly from the self-disappointment she felt. Irritated, she debated whether to sleep through the detention after school that would take two hours, or just look around quietly as the teacher glared up from their magazine.

In truth, the room was bland, bear, and boring. The school itself had so many twists and turns of hallways that it almost never got dull; some passages would lead to the gardens, others would lead to the library in multiple ways, or even the cafeteria. If one lacked a map, or just didn't pay attention, they risked getting lost in the school. Yet in this room, the one specifically designed for detention, Trinity found herself wanting to smash her head into the wall.

Earlier she had been having the time of her life.

Arriving at school as per usual, she attended all her classes up to lunch. It was at that point when she realized she was rather...well, sick of healthy food. Ironic word combination but true nevertheless. It was her desire and her need that sparked a flame of rebel inside of her...and this rebel wanted junk food.

Since she had never simply…walked out before, she had no clue how to do such a thing. Was she supposed to cause a distraction across the room and propel out the window like some bullet shot by a wild gun owner? Or should she be like a kitten learning how to pounce a pray by practicing the art of stealth, sneaking out of the room and eventually the building?

It took one glance around the cafeteria to see that only students and lunch ladies occupied the room; there were no guards, no teachers. That meant they trusted the girls not to fight…at least not at lunch. With a smile, she grabbed her two textbooks, which felt like feathers since she was used to it, and headed towards the door. It wasn't the door to the hall; it was the one to exit outside into the parking lot.

That of course was her mistake…otherwise she would not be in evening detention slamming her head into her desk repeatedly.

As soon as the door closed behind her and she stepped onto the hot pavement, she slammed into a wall. Wait no…it wasn't a wall…it was a very bulky and much built guard! A soft gasp had left her lips as she tried to take cover in the school, as though that would help, but was grabbed instantly.

So after a lecture that would be the four seasons to a halt and a yellow slip, here she was.

A sigh left her lips…how stupid was she! Though she was reluctant, she forced herself to glance up at the clock that hung high above the teacher's head; it was only 4:27…just an hour in a half left. Wow that seemed forever away!

The school had called her house but she had no idea if her parents had been there long enough to hear the disappointed voice report such an uncommon thing. Whether they knew or not, Trinity was positive that Antoinette found out…and was probably working up a list of things to say to her when she got home. Maid and servant she was, she had a sharp tongue and a mind just as sharp like a mother to Trinity.

Putting her forehead back onto her folded arms, she closed her eyes and withheld a sigh. Every noise, the annoyed instructor told her, would cost her five extra minutes. Of course she had little doubt that the woman would keep her until late at night for repeated sighs, therefore she tried to keep silent. If she looked out the window to see the freedom she had tried to obtain during school and was lost from for two hours, she would sigh constantly in regret and self-annoyance.

As she pictured what she longed to do, she found herself starting to doze off. The only thing she could think of was…_I hope my snoring doesn't cost me five minutes each time…_

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For some reason, her body jolted awake. There had been no sounds or talking, it just sensed the time and awoke. Its senses realized something was off and awoke the owner they inhabited.

Trinity rubbed her weary green eyes and looked up, half ready to flinch when the evening rays hit her squarely. Yet nothing happened. There were no rays from the sun that drowned, no hints of light that desperately clung to existence. The classroom light was off while the halls, and perhaps the other classrooms, were on. How strange.

Did the teacher forget her? Did she decide that her job consisted of only watching over Trinity and left, letting her wake herself up on her own time? She would have lost her job if she had done that…so where was she?

Frowning, Trinity stood and stretched with her hands in the air, a grunt of relief leaving her lips. Sore muscles protested against movement but she swiftly pushed that aside as she grabbed her books blindly. Oh! She couldn't find a thing in this darkness!

Scowling and muttering she stormed over to the door where the light switch would rest, tripping over a desk leg that stuck out into her path. The darkness covered her blush of sheepishness before reaching the lights.

As soon as they flicked on, her eyes shut tight to protect themselves from the burning sensation. After a few seconds, she peaked to spot the floor marked with some sort of paint. Opening them all the way, she gasped loudly; all around her were question marks in the same color as her eyes.

How did this happen without her noticing? What happened to the teacher? Surely the old lady would have ripped off the prankster's head for doing this all over the floors and walls and…ceiling?!

Not amused, Trinity gathered her books by tossing them carelessly into her bag before heading out the door. Her spine was straight and icy, her palms slightly sweaty, and her heart racing from surprise and suspense. Clearly her body, her senses, knew something her mind didn't!

When she opened the classroom door and stepped outside, she froze.

Apparently the same joke rewired the lights so when the classroom (the one she was in, probably no others) was off, the hall lights were on…when the class was on, the hall was off. That wasn't what made Trinity shiver however.

It was what was on the lockers that did.

Decorating the rows of lockers were question marks that glowed in the dark. Dozens and dozens were on the wall, lockers, ceiling, and floor. They almost blinded Trinity who rubbed her eyes slightly. What was all this?!

As soon as she stepped forward to touch the one locker that lacked the sticker, her locker oddly enough, she saw something sparkle off to the side. When she heard, she saw a sort of cane, one that was gold and in a question mark shape. Before she could see who was holding it, the hiss of gas was heard and she soon found herself back into an unwilling sleep.

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Next chapter: She awakens…Riddler watches…perhaps a riddle is said? Review please!


	5. Riddle 1

**No one reviewed.**

**I will admit, I am writing this purely to write it for fun. However, I DO like a review or two when possible. I don't want to be writing and posting this when no one reads it or wants to keep reading it…if no one wants to read it, I can simply write it, label it as my personal fan fiction, and never upload it.**

**Short chapter because I'm exhausted but will not have time to write on this for at least a few more days. The next chapter will be LONG. **

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It was cold.

The chill crept into her bones, making her body tremble without her consent. Even though her eyes were still shut, she noticed that the light in whatever room she rest in was bright though not blinding. Judging by the semi-soft thing she lay on, she would bet she was resting on a mattress with at least a quilt or two to make it feel decent.

Yet how did she get there?

Better yet, where was 'there'?

Opening her eyes, she was grateful not to stare straight into the light above her at first. Instead she stared at the door, noticing how close it was. Sitting up, she jumped slightly to feel something hit her head. It was a light tap but enough to make the jumpy girl freak out.

It was a note attached to, what looked like, a fishing pole. Well, if this was bait, she took it without hesitation. After all, what harm for a piece of paper do, Trinity wondered?

"_A zebra I look like;_

_my vision cut in half;_

_a ghostly noise leaves me when I move._

_What am I?"_

Trinity's olive eyes blinked twice before scanning over the elegantly scribbled words. Was she reading this right? What the heck was a riddle doing on a fish hook above her head? Very faintly she recalled how she stepped out of the isolated detention room only to run into a cloud of knock out gas.

Studying the riddle again, she frowned. The answer was pretty obvious when given her situation. Tilting her head, she murmured out loud, "Why, that's simple! It is a Prisoner!" She paused and felt a twinge of horror, along with panic, nip at her heart. "I'm a prisoner." The whisper that left her lips made her shudder.

"Right you are!" A cheery, eerie, voice exclaimed loudly. Though no one else was present in the room at the moment, the voice sounded as if they could be directly in front of her but invisible. As it turned out, her eyes roaming the room for the source, there was a camera in a corner and a speaker above her. The man was watching her. "What a smart girl; I haven't the slightest clue as to how you managed to get yourself in detention." At the mock, her cheeks flared.

"Who are you, where am I, and what do you want?" She demanded, cutting to the chase. After all, what girl, rich or poor, likes being kidnapped after school when that time should be her freedom?

The mysterious man on the speaker chuckled darkly. Much to her embarrassment, her body trembled briefly, a shudder from such a…a…delicious sound! Whether the man noticed or not was unclear for he said calmly, "Oh, aren't we impatient? You will see soon enough, Trinity."

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Next chapter: Henchmen take her to their boss, the Batman comes…will Riddler play it off as PG like on the show, or R like he was meant to do? R of course! Lol. Review please!


	6. Meet Your Stalker

**Thanks to CaffinH for reviewing!**

**By the way, happy (early) birthday again! Lol ^^ Consider this update/chapter as a birthday gift because I'm that cheap XDDD**

**To answer any questions, yes the riddles I have made/will be making for this story have been made up by me. Some are good, some are bad…some totally kick A; for example, the one I will write when Bruce gets involved XD lol**

**By the way; told you this chapter would be LONG.**

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It was unclear of how long she rest or paced in that small room. Her body and mind hinted it had been at least a day or two but she knew she couldn't trust herself. After all, did the good times not slip by too quickly; did the bad times pass like a snail? It very well could have been just a few hours but because of her worry and anxiety, it felt like days. Either way, she had no way of telling.

Of course it would have been a simple way to tell if she trusted her stomach. While some ate out of emotions, she ate, to be blunt, only when she was hungry. That meant mostly three meals a day, nothing more nothing less. Yet thanks to this nervousness that balled her insides up, she couldn't even figure out that way!

There were no windows in this room so, again, she couldn't find out what time it was. As stated several times before, the feeling of dread had kept sleep at bay. She may be tired from pacing but there was no way she would allow herself to sleep.

Not while this insane man was watching.

Not when she could wake up to see him before her…about to kill, or otherwise, her.

Trinity exhaled sharply in clear annoyance before crossing her arms. Without meaning to, her bottom lip stuck out and she imitated a pout. Earlier when she had done so, she nearly flipped out of her shoes to hear the same dark voice laced with amusement say, "Aw, how cute; the heiress is pouting like a four year old!" It was full of mocking and she wanted to just slap him.

Recalling this memory, she stopped instantly and instead put on a scowl so it didn't look like she was pouting like a 'four year old'. Whoever he was, she would not give him the satisfaction of teasing her. Yet at the same time, she was giving him satisfaction of control; she was pacing like a caged lioness…in a sense, she was such. By looking irritated, even at times scared, she was probably giving him that sick twisted sense of pleasure.

That was why that as hard and complicated it was for her to do, she stopped.

Painstakingly as it was to force her anxiety to be pent up, she sat on the semi-soft bed she had awaked on. This room was not too bad, she reasoned. It was not like a 17th centaury dungeon but at the same time it was no hotel in the Hilton. It was comfortable…for a prisoner.

Her head was bowed slightly as she stared at her feet.

That was what she was, Trinity thought to herself, a prisoner. A hostage, a means to trade for money…or maybe just to keep. Was she some sort of exotic pet? A girl who was there just to be there?

Here was the better question; would Gotham's masked vigilante who she always condemned save her?

It was true that she disliked what Batman did but since the cops were so incompetent against these crazed villains (even normal criminals), it was the best option. Heck, it was the _only_ option.

The fact that he could put on tights, weapons, and a mask while driving around to capture the guys that repeatedly escaped sounded foolish to her. Not only did he risk hurting people as a casualty while he was in these high speed chases or such, both by himself and the fact that these criminals might take a shield every now and then, but it was how he got away with it.

Most of the policemen hated him and wanted him captured and unmasked. Others, like Commissioner Gordon, turned a blind eye to how Joker, for example, would appear in Arkham. It was no secret who hated Batman with a fierce jealousy and fiery passion, just like it was as plain as day of who liked him.

The main reason Trinity rather disliked the hero was that he had imitators. These young men who foolishly threw themselves into the idea of being like him infuriated her. Instead of thinking of reality, of how to get a job, how to keep them and their families alive by means of money, food, clothes, and a roof…they ran around with their boxers on the outside of the jeans.

Not only that but they got hurt.

Against every day criminals who carried guns, they had been a few injuries, though no deaths luckily, in the past few years. Compared to the Penguin, these common (or not-so-common criminals thanks to the Batman) criminals were fleas. But it was when placed with normal people who donned a 'secret' mask and tried to take them on was there trouble.

At this moment, Trinity was unsure if she wanted to be saved by this superhero.

It was at this moment that she heard noise. It was quiet at first then unceasingly loud. Her thoughts were broken like China on a floor as her bright green eyes lifted, half hoping to see the man with pointy ears there.

Instead, she was greeted with two men.

Neither had pointy ears or a cape.

…damn.

"Who are you?" Trinity's voice sudden snapped. In that moment, she sounded like Queen Anne Boleyn snarling at her people, dissatisfied and displeased. True enough that she was unable to speak for…well, however long she had been locked up, but seeing those two just made her blood boil.

The men wore lab coats, in short, but their shoes and outfits underneath it made it obvious they were no scientists. Therefore any fear Trinity first felt was extinguished instantly since she knew she wasn't there for experimentation. This only begged the question more; why?

Goggle eyed, the two apparently stared at her. "Taking you to see the boss."

Without offering their arm to her or even waiting to hear her answer (as if she could say 'no'), they grabbed her arm on each side. Her eyes narrowed, making her crimson hair look briefly like it were fire instead. "Ever think of being more polite you sniveling pigs?!" She exclaimed; if she was going to be prisoner, she may as well just call upon the manners she was taught long ago. If anything, it would annoy them. Then again her vicious snap was a bit…less lady-like than she liked.

Slowly the two let her arms go but walked so close to her that she had no choice but to walk forward. They were by no means buff but strong enough to where, if combined, could drag her if they wished. Not wanting to meet her kidnaper by means of her heels dragging on the ground the first time, she complied reluctantly.

The doors burst open to let her in and to spy the madman responsible for taking her. She stepped in, ready to give this man a piece of her mind, but found her breath and thoughts caught. For the briefest of seconds her body froze but it must have been noticeable and marked by a man like this.

Hair as dark as hers curtained his pale face which basically promoted the smug grin on his face. Though she couldn't see his eyes for the mask over his face hid them, she noticed the…well, the make up he wore. It was like war paint that made him look like a computer chip. What amazed her was that under his green tights that he wore, he appeared to be nothing but bones. It took a brief moment for her to spot the muscles on these phones, amazed and in awe of his strong body.

"Ah, Trinity…at last we meet face to face." The man stepped forward, the golden cane with a question mark on the top in his hand making a light 'tap' noise when it hit the ground. "I have…admired you from afar." As if this were a joke, he emphasized on the part that was supposed to be a pun.

Trinity's eyes narrowed into slits of anger and slight hatred, resentment.

"Ah, ah, ah…before you begin to ask those annoying little questions; riddle me this.

I am but a man, unknown to those who know not;

the type where others ignore for lack of reasons to speak.

Though I'm considered odd, I have another name for such a word.

What am I?"

The young lady stared in bewilderment. _Another_ riddle?! Why was this man to entranced and seduced by these irritating questions?! Her green eyes sparkled briefly. The answer took her only a brief moment to put together. Again, she had to consider her situation.

"You are a stranger."

The man's smug grin burst into a prideful smile. "Correct! Quite an amazing brain you have, though you are no match to me."

Unable to resist, she said sarcastically, "Oh yes, I agree; after all, I would have never thought to dress a skeleton up in green tights and put a long wig on it." The shot at him made the smile snap into an angry frown. Quickly before he stopped her, she questioned, "And what is the name of my stalker?"

"You may call me The Riddler."

"And if I don't want to call you that?"

Though his eyes were hidden, she could hear the humor in his voice. "I am sure there are many other names you could call me albeit most are crude."

"Do you intend on telling me why you kidna-…" Trinity was cut off by another man dressed in a similar fashion of a lab coat running in. They had to be henchmen, she decided.

"Riddler sir, the Batman is here!" In a panic, the man screamed and jumped out of the way when the doors burst forth, revealing said caped crusader.

Trinity was unsure whether to feel joy or dread.

"Let her go, Riddler!" His grinded up voice rang out, making Trinity tense. Was that anger or just a voice disguiser? Or both?

The top of the cane possessed a question mark, as stated previously. Though the tip was curled inwardly and basically harmless when pressed against a neck, the sides weren't. They were sharp and sickeningly thin, ready to slice open skin at the slightest of movements.

"Make one move, Batsy, and she goes buh-bye." Riddler's voice rang out through the paused chaos.

And much to her shame, a soft whimper of fear left her lips.

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Next chapter: Batman has to decide what to do…does Trinity die? Well, if so say bye to this story then lol. What is Riddler's next move? Review please!


	7. Split Second

**Thanks to CaffinH for reviewing!**

**Yeah, I had said June. Hehe. I can't wait. Actually this month on the 17****th****, exactly a month away from mine, my little brother is having HIS birthday lol.**

**I'm tired and half A'ed this chapter but next will be long. The last one was long, yes? :P**

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Trinity could feel the sharp weapon press against her throat, making her freeze her breathing; it was so sharp it could easily slice her just by exhaling! Her fingertips were beginning to feel numb and her head started to swim from the lack of oxygen. Though she couldn't see it, she could feel her hands and legs tremble ever so slightly. Would she die being cut? Or would she suffocate because of the pointed weapon she tried to avoid getting cut with?

Suddenly the sound of inhaling deeply caught her attention. She longed to do it as well. The villain behind her was smirking; she could almost feel it as he inhaled again. What was he smelling though, she wondered? Did he magically grow a third arm and smell a flower he pulled out of his butt? After all, she spotted nothing in the room worth smelling when she first came in.

It took her a moment to realize he was smelling her!

Her hair was like an intoxicating drug to him, his nose pressed against it so much that it made her cheeks turn dark red. Goose pimples came across her flesh, some hidden from the clothing she wore while others were subtly revealed to those close enough to see. In fact, the green colored man behind her noticed and even smirked. "Scared that the precious Batman will let you fall from his graces?" Riddler whispered in her ear loud enough for all to hear. There was a certain…a certain hush in his tone, perhaps a 'birth mark' in his voice. It was unique.

Forced to stay silent, Trinity kept her eyes on the caped man. What was he planning? Would he save her? Or would he leave her to the man's clutches, thinking it would be too risky to try and help her? Part of her wanted him to save her simply because it was human instinct not to want to die. The other practical part, however, wanted him to be caught along with her.

However, he did what he wanted to.

Batman suddenly swung what looked like a boomerang in shape of a bat towards the two. It hit the cane without hesitation which would have normally lid its blade into Trinity's frail neck.

Normally.

Lucky for her, the Riddler had started to move the cane upwards perhaps to try and block the weapon. Then again, he might have moved it just so she could get hit with the very thing Batman threw to save her with. Either way, whether he predicted the green man's move or it was pure luck, Trinity's neck was free for the moment.

Oh her heart skipped a beat and she felt her legs turn to jello. She was just not the kind of punk brave girl like Batgirl was. Still, she refused to faint from fear, from the mere drop of a pin. Struggling to keep standing, and awake, she turned and kicked Riddler in the gut.

The man grabbed her ankle but fell back from the force, obviously having been concentrating heavily on Batman instead. When Trinity fell backwards, her legs truly unable to help her after such a move, she heard Batman run. It was more of his swooshing cape that she heard actually.

Her green eyes looked up to spot him kick the Riddler. Opening her mouth, she was close to shouting a cheer. A cheer, as if she were at a football game instead of watching the only person who could save her life fight. Just as she started to speak, she felt something, someone.

When she turned, a sharp pain entered her temple. Soon darkness consumed her. The last noises, the last scene, she experienced with Batman fighting with Riddler.

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Next chapter: Something happens between Riddler and Trinity…then Batman realizes he can save the girl through only one way; pay a ransom. Will her parents do it? Or will they shrug her aside, proclaiming her not worth their money?


	8. Waking to Forced Passion

**Thanks to CaffinH for reviewing!**

**Yes, the riddle at the end is mine.**

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When she awoke, she felt a certain chill come over her body. It wasn't from the temperature around her for she sensed that it was mild. If anything, she even recalled it being okay. Not too hot, not too cold. Yet this chill that was slipping down her spine and bouncing right back up came from…from…being stared at!

Even before she could open eyes, she could nearly imagine, see, the man that was responsible for it. He had long black hair, make up that matched the color that made him look like a computer chip that matched his green suit. His mask that covered his eyes, the very eyes that stared at him, was a dark green. It was the Riddler, she sensed.

As soon as she opened her eyes, she spotted him.

The way he looked at her made her feel so…filthy. Though his eyes were covered with a thin strip, she knew he was studying every inch of her body. How long had she been out? Better yet, how long had he been eyeing her like a piece of candy?

"What happened?" She croaked out, stroking her throat with a grimace. She sat up and grabbed the water he pointed to with his cane, not thinking twice if it were poisoned. All she knew right now was that it was cold and it felt good.

After she drank most of the water, he sat back in the chair he was situated in. Had that always been there, she wondered faintly? Apparently he was waiting for her to get comfortable and situated before going on. In that moment she felt annoyance turn to hatred. How dare he mock her!

Her eyes snapped towards his, her own green ones matching the fieriness of his.

Slowly, however, curiosity overrode her need for revenge and she sat back down. Once she looked 'comfy', he answered her. "The Batman lost."

"You mean you ran away?" She shot back without hesitation.

Unfazed, he went on. "Either way I still have you." This was when she felt his gaze move from her face to her bosom. She covered herself with a nearby comforter, licking her lips.

"When can I go home?" It was such a childish question, one that sounded twice as sad since she squeaked it. In truth she was half tempted to revert to the childish stage of life. Yet what good would that do for her? It would humiliate her and possibly make things worse instead of better.

The riddle obsessed man tilted his head somewhat. Oh how his hair fell a bit, curtaining his face ever so slightly. It was…oh, it was devilishly handsome. Hot. It made her blush and flush with shame and guilt at how much she liked it. Though she hated him at that moment, she had to admit he wasn't…bad looking. Far from it.

In his hand, as always, was that blasted cane! She tried not to scowl when she saw the gold twirling, trying to and succeeding in catching her attention. Oh how she would adore just to grab that thing and chunk it out the window! Better yet, she'd love to hit him in the head with it. For now however, once more, she restrained herself and sat there.

After a minute he replied, "When your parents, or someone else, pays the ransom."

"Ransom?" She mimicked like a parrot, her eyes slightly widening. "What ransom? How much?" Question after question shot off after him, the girl surprised.

The very thought of her parents paying money to get her back made Trinity smirk. It wasn't one of amusement or humor, but one of sorrow and bitterness, even a bit of self-pity.

Something told her that the chances of being saved now were slim. Since Riddler did in fact run off from the Batman, she did not know if and when she would be found again. They could have moved merely down the block from the last warehouse or they could be in some top secret obvious yet hidden place. Either way, she did not see the Batman at the moment.

Her parents, on the other hand, already acted like they didn't want Trinity. They cast her off to school, to the maids, the butlers, to the nannys. It was ridiculous! So if they spent most of her life throwing her to different people they paid, why would they pay to get her back? It was a fifty/fifty chance that she could get freedom. It was…scary.

"A couple million." Riddler stated as if it were no more than a hundred dollars. Though she choked and stuttered, the man pointed out, "At least I consider you worth every cent." He chuckled darkly at his own light joke.

Though she dreaded the answer, she had to know. "When…How long did you…give my parents to ponder over this?" She could practically hear her parents complaining about the money and about her…had they fired Antoinette yet for losing track of her?

"Tomorrow evening is the last day." He answered as though telling her the sky was blue. There was nothing smug in his voice this time though she could sense his amusement.

"You gave them only two days?!" She exclaimed with a bit of shock and horror. Who could decide to get their daughter in two days? Better yet who was able to find the money in those couple o days?

The black haired man raised a brow as he watched the girl gape with disapproval. That was when he laughed as if recalling an old joke. He looked at her before stating, "You've been out for two days. I've given them four all together."

Two days?!

She had been unconscious for two days!? How?! What…was the hit to the head truly that horrible?! Her confusion must have been evident on her face for Riddler continued, "You awoke periodically through out the two days though I doubt you recall. I gave you water and made sure you weren't getting sick or stuck in a coma." He paused and added, "You're welcome."

"I…" she shook her head, sitting up more. At this point, the blankets she had pulled over herself earlier fell to reveal her bralass chest. Though she tried to cover up, she knew that she had accidently already intrigued the man.

Abruptly, she felt…unsecure. She felt defenseless, weak. She felt…vulnerable.

"And what happens until then?"

"Oh I imagine you'll be so very bored, Trinity. And yet, why waste riddles whe we can be having fun?" The man raised a brow, smiling widely at her. There was a certain darkness, a sexy kind, along him like a light coat. It was odd.

She tensed to hear him say such a thing, however. Sitting up straighter, she hugged the comforter around her. Licking her lips, an obvious sign of nervousness, she said, "Please get away from me. I want to be alone."

"Ah, but what is the fun of being alone?" He stood as he spoke, slowly as if to purposely intimidate her.

It worked.

"Easy, I'd be away from you!" She snapped coldly as she scooted back on the bed. Why a bed? Why not a pallet? It was less…hinting.

"Oh but you don't want to get away from me." Riddler said in a low tone, walking closer. As soon as his knee touched the bed, Trinity felt a sharp pang go through her; fear, uncertainty, excitement. "Your body will love me." With this being said, he didn't wait for her to actually register what he had said.

The moment she felt his body on hers, she started to fight against him. She screamed curses, refusing to beg him to get off. Instead she demanded it, screeched it. Yet the more she moved, trying to get her arms free for example, the tighter he held. Had he done any of this when she was out the past two days? She wouldn't have been able to fight and certainly did not remember any of it.

"**I am the very opposite of what you usually feel in life,**

**I am rare and precious,**

**What am I?"**

It was half attempted poem but at this point, writing such a riddle while pinning a fighting girl down was no easy task when put together. Trinity didn't bother, didn't want to guess what it was. Instead she gasped when she felt her hands pinned down, his weigh pushed into it.

Much to her shame, she felt her body start to tremble. The man leaned forward, his lips gently brushing against her ear. In the seductive low whisper, he answered his own riddle, "Pleasure."

Trinity gasped when she felt one hand hold both of her wrists while the other traveled down, stopping with excitement at her breasts. She could feel how cold his hands were even through the shirt she wore, her body responding though she kept telling it not to. His fingers, bare and no longer gloved, slid over her nipples and it seemed a childish glee entered him as he repeated the action, leaning forward to press his lips against her neck so gently that one may not have even noticed.

She shivered and tried to kick him off. She knew very well that if she tried to get her arms free, it would damage, not help. For a man so thin, he was strong. Time was but a blur for Trinity. She didn't know how long he stayed fascinated by her breasts but soon she found his fingers trailing down her stomach, lingering just to see her reaction.

Closing her eyes she felt her cheeks turn crimson, trying to look away. She refused to give him any sort of sign, whether good or bad. She wouldn't! She could feel him press against her and, though she'd never admit it out loud, she felt…excited from it. And though she promised herself not to say a word, look a certain way, or do anything, she broke it.

A moan of his name escaped her lips moments before hers was screamed by him.

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**Next chapter: Now we learn what Bruce will do about the ransom; he visits the parents and makes a plan. Will the parents pay for her? Review please!**


	9. Bruce Or Batman?

Bruce rubbed his temples as he let the Batmobile drive him home. A headache had begun to rear its ugly head as soon as he spotted the girl. From what he could gather, Riddler had kidnapped her and it took her parents two days to realize their only daughter was missing to call the cops. That was when he overheard it on the police scanner.

Some days he would look at the police scanner and feel like he was an old noisy man.

So he became Batman as he usually did in his nightly ritual and took off. In hopes of rescuing the girl, he believed this would be just another night, a common night blending in with the others. Oh he was wrong!

As soon as he spotted the hostage, he was stunned.

It was Trinity Hariton.

He had met the girl once last year when her parents threw a Charity Ball. As far as he knew, they were always in the newspaper somehow but mostly for good stuff. They were the kind of rich couple that did things for looks and appearance, not that they really cared for the cause. When he had first met her, he had a feeling the girl thought of her parents as strangers.

Even now as he turned the corner of the mountain and came to the conclusion that the girl, overall, didn't see her parents much made him think of his. Would he have became what he was if his parents hadn't loved him? If they hadn't spent time? If they weren't sincere in what they did and hoped for and said?

No, he wouldn't be Batman.

He would be just another playboy who gave the rich a bad name, like so many others before him. So he had to wonder now, like he had the first night they met, what kind of person was this Trinity?

It really didn't make a difference since he was planning to save her either way. Yet still, he just…wanted to know. There was a need to know that was encouraging him to find out somehow.

When he reached the Batcave, he stood and looked around, half expecting Alfred to be there. That man rarely went to bed while Bruce was out and about in the city. In a way, Alfred was like his father. Of course there was always that invisible line, that barrier between them because he acted…cold, dry, and a bit too business like. Still, there were moments when Bruce caught him fretting in such a way that only a parent could do it.

It was touching to him really. When his parents had died, he felt like it was his fault. Had Alfred just packed up and left him, or used him, Bruce would have had no one. He would be alone…and that thought, even as the caped hero of Gotham, frightened him.

"Alfred?" He called out in a semi-soft voice. After all, in this massive cave, his voice would surely carry. His eyes roamed the area, sharp from both the mask and his ability to adjust to it to see certain things. From the look so far, this place was empty! That was odd…

A thought occurred.

What if Alfred was hurt?

What if he was kidnapped? People had tried to several times before and although he knew he could handle himself, there was a small part of Bruce that worried. Or better yet, what if the man ended up falling down the many stairs they had? What if he slipped and fell and hit his head on something? What if…

All but running up the stairs, he threw open the secret entrance and flung himself out to scan the area. His eyes darted to and fro the place as his heart began to race. Adrenaline was in his veins, he could feel it. Where was…

"Alfred!" He exclaimed when he spotted the familiar butler step into the hallway. The man looked over, frozen with shock for a brief moment, before collecting himself. Thank goodness Bruce didn't have his voice disguiser on.

"Master Bruce…I suggest you get dressed, we have unexpected company." He hinted, glancing at the doorway. Whoever it was, he didn't know but had to change…and fast!

Understanding the hint, obviously the unexpected guests could hear them; he switched from his bat suite to his normal suite. It took a little less than five minutes but he managed, walking out while trying to catch his breath. He didn't need to appear out of breath, panting as if he ran a mile…in his suit. That would just…be bad.

So when he stepped inside his living room, he paused.

It was Trinity's parents.

What did they want?

"Good evening Mr. Hariton, Mrs. Hariton." Bruce pulled on the ever polite mask; securing it tightly for he had a feeling he would be tempted to rip it off. It was just a feeling but something that indicated what may or may not happen; he couldn't risk it. It seemed like this mask was all he wore in front of people like this. "How can I help you?"

"Mr. Wayne, hello!" The man stood as he spotted the younger male coming over. He smiled, ignoring Alfred as he served the tea as if he were nothing more than a fly, something to deal with. "I'm sure now news has reached you."

"News?" Bruce decided to play dumb, always unsure of what may or may not happen if he revealed he knew something.

Alfred merely glared as he poured the tea, setting it down a bit more forceful than necessary. Apparently the parents didn't even notice and if they did, they didn't care. For now they just picked it up and sipped it, looking up at Bruce with a smile.

"Our daughter has been kidnapped by a crazed man." The mother stated so calmly that one would think she was discussing the bill at a meal. Sipping the tea slowly, she closed her eyes and for a split second Bruce actually thought she was trying to control her emotions, that maybe she was actually upset over this development.

Instead she just yawned, obviously tired.

"Oh…well has he made any demands?" Wayne had been planning to stop by as Batman and look up their phones, maybe tap it so he could listen if Riddler called. Yet this was much easier to do instead of running around doing things that weren't needed. He sat down, taking his own tea before thanking his butler quietly.

"Well, we need you to help us." Trinity's father stated as he had before. "The Riddler wants several million dollars for her. To be blunt, we need you to cause a distraction so the press doesn't pay attention to us."

"Of course. You don't want them paying attention to you exchanging the money?" He raised a brow, watching the parents.

"No, we just want to avoid a scandal. We aren't going to pay for her." Trinity's mother said with a sip of tea after her cold statement.

"What?!" Bruce exclaimed; Alfred must have overheard for he dropped the tray, a gasp leaving him. "Why not?"

"Well," the father started, obviously having talked about this before, "we figure that the man has defiled her already and taking her back would just cause more trouble. Then we would have to go to court and…oh, it is just easier to move on."

"Move on?" The man glared with rage in his eyes. "Move on?! She isn't dead! She is held hostage! How can you even say that about your only daughter?! Get out of my house, now!"

As soon as they left, Alfred looked up from cleaning the mess he made. "What will you do, sir?" He asked with shock in his voice still.

"…I'll have to save her myself."

"Should I get your Batman outfit again?"

This made the rich boy pause and smile. "No…they want me to cause a distraction, I will. I'm going to save her as Bruce Wayne."

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**Next chapter: How will Bruce save her? Review please**


	10. Riddle 2

**Thanks to CaffinH for reviewing!**

**This riddle in here was made by me…**

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"Tired?" Riddler's voice reached Trinity's ears even before she opened her eyes. "Or are you sore? You should be." There was humor in his voice, taunting. On his face was a silly smile almost like the Mad Hatter's.

Trinity's dark olive eyes slowly opened with great reluctance. She spotted the long haired man quickly and then shut her eyes, unsure what she wanted. On one hand she wanted nothing but death to save her from this embarrassment. On the other, she just wanted to leave.

Slowly sitting up, she looked away and rubbed her hands together. "Cold?" Riddler spoke up again, making her scowl. "You should be; you only have a sheet on." There was a chuckle ending the sentence this time. "Want me to warm you up?" He burst out laughing this time and she faintly wondered if he really was the Mad Hatter in disguise.

"Go to hell." Trinity snapped, growing sick of all this.

"Tsk, tsk," he shook his head with a slight grin, "is that the vocabulary of someone who goes to such a fine school? What a shame." He wagged his index finger in front of her, showing just how disappointed he was. "If I went to hell who would send for your ransom?"

This caught Trinity's attention. Her eyes snapped to meet his and her lips partly, clearly surprised. "My ransom? You…"

"I'll be sending a final ransom to every rich person that lives here…you're up for grabs, my sweet Trinity." He leaned forward and grabbed a strand of her hair, twirling it around his fingers. Watching her turn crimson he chuckled and slowly unraveled the trapped string of hair, his finger caressing her cheek as he did. "I'm sure you'll miss me."

She tried her best not to shudder at how his voice sounded. Whether one liked to or not, they were hypnotized by it…it sounded so…so…dark! Trinity looked away and hugged the sheet tighter around her body. "I hate you." She snapped coldly and pulled her fist back to hit him.

As soon as she was about to hit him, she found the icy metal of his cane pressed against her neck. She found her back on the cool wall and her fist ended up wrapping her fingers around the cane, trying to pull it off of her. "Try that again, my dear, and we'll see what is pale and black and blue all over." He snarled in her ear before pulling away.

Her fingers lightly touched her neck as she stared, fear in her eyes and rage on her face. She noticed how slow he dressed, almost teasing her. She shifted her gaze, trying not to blush.

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Alfred walked into Bruce's Batcave and placed a note on his desk. "This was in the mail, sir. Everyone who can afford a building, according to the front, got one."

Bruce opened it and read it.

_The sun of all beliefs_

_I play as the one who wears armor,_

_What am I?_

"…A savior, of course. Or a rescuer. Either way…" He frowned and looked at Alfred. "…I know how to save her."


	11. Chapter 11

**As SHOCKING as it is…I'm back! Lol.**

**During my trip to New York, I got bored and was re-reading this and decided, what the heck? So I have two chapters written up already. Here's one; hope you guys like it!**

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"Aren't you going to eat?" Ten minutes had passed since one of the henchmen had walked in with a tray of breakfast, a smirk on his face as he departed. Although Trinity didn't want to admit it, the food looked delicious: fruit, salad, and a sandwich with a cold ice tea sat before her.

"No." She hated saying it but it was the truth.

"Why not?" Riddler asked a follow-up.

Though the room was nearly as cold as her father's limo, she felt warm – from guilt, shame, and embarrassment, that is. It had been a day since every "rich" person received a riddle to get her.

And in that day, she was sheepish to say; she had 'shared' the bed with her kidnapper several more times. While her body loved it, she had been see-sawing between like and hate of it. Was it Stockholm syndrome? She doubted it. Was it love, lust? Lust.

…right?

She was determined to go on a hunger strike until he stopped…could she call it rape?...or until she was free. Yet with each passing hour, it was getting more difficult.

"Isn't this cute?" The villain smiled as he took a slice of her sandwich. "Trying to kill yourself? There are faster ways; let me help." With a swift move, he swung his cane forward and it took only a mere second for her to feel the blood travel down her neck.

It had been a thin cut above her collarbone, a warning more than anything. "Eat." Riddler commanded in his slightly slurred voice while handing her the slice he had just taken. "Wouldn't want them to think I wasn't the perfect host."

Tempted to point out the hypocrisy, Trinity instead, gladly, bit into the sandwich. The cut was clotting, the blood ceasing to fall. The girl exhaled shakily as she ate, her thoughts warped. Well…she wanted a different time…she got it.

She wondered what was going through Annie's mind; after all, the French maid was more like her mother than anything. The thought of her panicking caused the food in Trinity's mouth to turn to ash and a knot to form in her throat. Putting her fruit down, she pushed the tray away.

Several moments passed until the man spoke. "Your eyes seem to be wet; is something wrong?" Before she could snap at him, she found him crawling onto the bed. His thin yet strong body rest over hers above the comforter though his hand traveled a familiar path underneath.

"Stop." Compared to the very first time, her command was more like a plea.

"Why should I? You're obviously enjoying it." A moan left them both, such ironic timing. "Case in point." Such damnable ironic timing.

"I…" Trinity didn't know what to say. "Because I…"

"Sir!" One of the henchmen (the same one? They all look the same.) ran in and paused only long enough to see his boss' hand slip out from the covers. "Someone is here to buy the girl."

The green colored man sat up instantly, his interested renewed in a new subject. "Who?"

"Bruce Wayne."

"Wayne?" Riddler stood, his face being covered with a huge grin along with his mask. "Give her something to wear while I negotiate."

Trinity say up as well, shock in her eyes. Strange enough, she felt a bit of anxiety at the thought of being left alone with the henchman. While Riddler fixed himself up, they seemed to share the similar thought. "Give her clothing and nothing more: Do not touch her or else."

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Next chapter: Bruce buys her…will be posted by tomorrow, if I can get unpacked and situated.


	12. Riddle 3

**Thanks to those who reviewed. I'm glad my readers didn't ditch me lol.**

**I half-A'ed a riddle at the end…hope y'all like it. **

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The hall he walked was cold which was why the henchmen were wearing such long coats – well that, and the fact that it made them look like scientists. He never understood that and wasn't about to figure it out now. After all, he cared more about throwing them all in prison and saving Trinity rather than question Riddler's fashion sense.

Bruce Wayne stopped just a few feet into a new room, one that looked similar to a twisted business room. While two henchmen stood nearby, armed and ready to fight if need be, one took off to probably find his boss. It took restraint for Wayne not to smile; if only they knew he was Batman, they wouldn't be so relaxed. If they knew he was a real threat, they'd be tripping over themselves to attack him.

Ironic, if not a bit creepy, at how Batman was in the Riddler's lair without them knowing.

Several moments passed until there was a soft noise. Another moment passed until the noise repeated itself, louder this time. When a full thirty seconds had zipped by, the same noise was nearly screeching. The door opened, a rusty one at that. Behind the man who walked in, there was a hint of another door which meant, though rusty, they were all relatively difficult to get through unless one had a key.

"Bruce Wayne." Riddler's voice cut through the silence as he slowly descended from the winding staircase. "I have heard you wish to buy Trinity Hariton's freedom."

"You know I have." Bruce spoke coolly, collected even. Inside he was still boiling from her parents' visit but knew anger would not help here. "I've brought the money." Almost like magic, he pulled out a large black bag and tossed it on the ground. Of course he planned on getting it back later – as Batman. "Where is she?"

"Oh she's…in bed. She felt a bit sick earlier. You see, Batman visited and his little toys knocked her out cold. Tsk, tsk." Edward eyed the bag from behind his mask, his smirk growing only wider. "It's all there?" He asked without the humor in his tone this time. One of the henchmen walked over, grabbing it to count it swiftly.

"I'm a man of my word."

"That's what makes you so popular with the press." A pause. "Or…is it because you're mysterious?" The villain taunted. When the henchman nodded, he glanced at the door, "Bring her in." Nygma's voice was chilled, lacking all jest and arrogance.

In walked the young lady in loose clothing, her wide olive eyes searching almost frantically for any traps, almost terrified yet hopeful of the idea of leaving. Could it truly be this simple? When she spotted Bruce, her frame relaxed slightly.

"Mr. Wayne, may I present to you your award!" This time, his statement was full of mockery. "You'll have a good time with her… I know I did." The last part was murmured, deep and twisted enough to send ice down Trinity's spine. "It's been a pleasure having you." The man laughed at the play on words, leaving Bruce in the dark to his joke. However, Trinity was bright enough with a blush to light a hint of a path for Wayne to find out what he meant. A suspicion, nothing more.

When he turned to face her as she reached the last step, his cane 'accidently' tripped her. With a soft gasp, she landed against him, held up without much of an effort by either party. The villain's hand caressed her breast as he grabbed her shoulder, helping her up.

Before she could react, she was thrown at Bruce like a doll.

And like a doll, she stumbled and fell before the man who saved her. Without hesitation, Bruce leaned forward to help her stand. Up close, he surveyed the damage. Her hair was a mess which was to be expected. There was a yellow bruise on her temple, probably from where she had been hit by accident. From what he could tell, she didn't hold anymore wounds except the thin recent cut just above her collarbone.

He'd have to take her to a hospital, he knew.

"Tell your friends about me." Her kidnapper spoke as though they were departing from a tea party. "Oh…and one more thing.

**Like a key to chain and a chain to a key,**

**I brand two together. **

**What am I?**"

Trinity, held up partly by the millionaire playboy, studied Riddler closely. All his riddles revolved around what was or had happened. Her reply was quicker than Bruce's by mere seconds. "Ownership." Disgust colored her scowl.

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It took half an hour to get out of the maze of a building, but they made it out. True to his word, thankfully, Edward let them leave. Had all the money not been there…Trinity shuddered to think about it.

Silence was their conversation until they reached one of his many limos parked outside. The driver was not a man named Jeeves, but Alfred. The elderly man looked over, spotting them as they slipped in. Just as Bruce had done, Alfred surveyed any wounds on the girl they had just rescued. "Should I take us to the hospital, Master Bruce?" His first words were such.

It took Trinity a split second to realize he meant for her. Panic gripped her and refused to let go. If she went, they'd find out she had been raped…she would have to go through multiple people, males and females, telling her story repeatedly…and court too, once/if the bad guy was captured. She'd have to live with the shame, the guilt in public…people would look at her oddly.

"No." Her whisper was more of a yelp than anything.

"No? No what?" Bruce looked over, surprised at her own first words.

Realizing she had spoken out loud, Trinity licked her lips. "No hospital." Both men were staring at her, obviously about to protest. "Please, no hospital. I…it's just a scratch." She referred to the mark on her neck. They knew nothing about the rape – or whatever it was called when one was half-willing – and they had no real reason to force her to go. "I can't handle it."

Once more, silence overtook them.

Finally Bruce nodded. Alfred started the car, "If you wish, Ms. Hariton….I have medical supplies at the mansion."

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First, I want to say that writing the middle/end part made me wince.

**If someone is raped, they should go to the hospital ASAP and talk to the police. I do not advocate skipping the hospital especially. That's all I'm going to say. **

**Although it seems like I'm sending mixed signals in the story…I want to be clear on my standings on rape and whatnot. Don't want anyone to get offended.**

**Rape is NEVER the victim's fault…NEVER. Everyone has the right to say NO and others should respect it. **

**In my story, Trinity is between calling what happened 'rape' or 'consenual' and that is because…well, damnit, it's just a fanfiction, a story! Anyway…**


	13. Wayne Manor

**Thanks for the reviews guys!**

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If she ever thought her home was vast, she was stunned when she spotted Bruce Wayne's home. The lawn itself was twice as big as hers and the building, besides being decorated beautifully by aged artifacts, was a big lonely. Then again with only two people living in such a huge place, it wasn't a surprise. Still, she was just happy to have been away from Riddler.

Pushing that thought away, she stepped out of the car when the butler – wasn't his name Alfred? Yes she was sure of it, she remembered it from the dinner party she had attended before this horrible event occurred – opened the door. Her legs worked for a split moment before giving out, her body swaying onto the help.

Quick for his age, Alfred caught hold of her and helped her stand, placing her in Bruce's trusting hands while he ran off to get the medical supplies. "I cannot begin to thank you, Mr. Wayne." She tried to make small talk.

"Call me 'Bruce'. And you don't have to thank me." He spoke as they entered the building. The girl smiled ever so slightly as they entered the living room.

"Bruce…thank you still; all that money isn't something to sneeze at." Trinity stated as she sat on the couch. Mindful of keeping any blood off of it, she found herself becoming lost in thought. There was a scent on the couch, a faint one but one that had to have been nearly overpowering to have been left. It was familiar. "Roses." She whispered with a frown. "And plum." Her eyes met Bruce's as she realized it was her mother's scent. "My mother, my parents…they were here weren't they?"

"Ah, Miss Trinity if you will, tilt your head back a little so I can see the cut better." Alfred interrupted, much to Bruce's relief. "Just like that…thank you." With a small damp cloth, the butler pressed it against her cut in gentle strokes. "This is to disinfect any bacteria." He stated, "I don't believe you'll need stitches unless you open the cut wider. Is there any others that we should know of?"

While he wiped the blood away, Trinity nearly laughed. There were many but she couldn't speak. Finally she spoke, "Mostly just bruises…um…just…they'll heal." She whispered, feeling more sore spots on her body other than just the yellow bruises. "Thank you, Alfred. Bruce…were my parents here?"

"I suspect you might be hungry; what would you like to eat? I can fix anything you request. Would you like some water? I'd suggest drinking plenty of liquids. I could fix tea as well." Alfred tried to come to the rescue again but this time, he failed.

"Were my parents here?!" Trinity's snap turned into something of a shout.

When everything settled for a moment or two, Wayne nodded. "Yes. They…asked me to help them. They didn't want a scandal." He wasn't going to tell her the other part of what they said.

There was a soft flash of hurt going across Trinity's face. When it passed, she looked down and sighed. "Oh well. I suppose…it will be so awkward to live with them again after that."

"Well I was hoping you would consider living with us." Bruce said slowly. "I just need to get their permission to take you in as my ward…you would have everything you need, of course. We could pick up your things from your house if you so desired."

Trinity's green eyes widened ever so slightly. All of this seemed to be happening so…so fast! Yet she didn't mind. "Please. Yes. That would be great!" Her heart fluttered weakly, "Yes, that's…thank you! Oh but…what…I mean what about Annie, my maid, my friend? They'll fire her for sure if they haven't already."

"Annie?" Both men glanced at each other. "Perhaps we can work something out…Alfred could use help around here after all." Bruce half-joked. "If Annie would like, she could work for me and take care of you." If only he realized how much 'care' she would need after such an episode.

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**This chapter was half-A'ed. Honestly it was just half-hearted.**

**Next chapter: Trinity and Annie live at the Wayne Manor, Trinity snoops about…perhaps she finds a hint of the REAL Bruce Wayne?**


	14. Insomniacs & Maids

**First, I want to apologize for having such sucky and half-hearted updates recently. It may not look it, but I feel like my chapters haven't been as great as they could be.**

**Second, I decided to take this to a new level.**

**In this chapter, we'll see Riddler's thoughts of his riches and loss of a warm body…plus, we'll see Trinity's maid, Annie be picked up by Alfred, a man she finds rather attractive. **

**To AZ-woodbomb…it's just a fanfiction. Honestly, I'm too busy/tired/stressed to really bust my butt trying to make Annie and Trinity's age in sync…if that makes sense.**

**Thanks to all who reviewed!**

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What a week! Riddler pushed his rebellious strands of hair away from his vision, tucking them behind his ear. His cane, that weapon of his that had the faint specks of blood from his victim left over, was placed nearby against a wall. It wasn't too far from his bed, for what if he had to spring up in the middle of the night and fight something or someone?

Yet he doubted that he would have to fight anyone that night. It was as soon as Trinity and Bruce Wayne left did he gather his money, and henchmen, and move to a better hide-out. The chance of the Batman finding him now were…well, he gave himself at least a week depending on the other crimes going on in the city.

Yes, for that night he felt safe.

Sighing quietly, the man lay on his bed with an exhale of a grunt. His body was a bit sore, his mind reeling though his eyes begged to be shut. Should he go to sleep? Yes, he should. Could he? Nope!

The question was…why couldn't he?

That seemed to be a riddle he couldn't crack just yet.

Usually he would either be out like a light or he would stay up for days on end. This was the first time he was caught in between. And this happened only because his little hostage had left…

Could that be it? There was a weak, almost shuddering, smile on his face. It was dim, shaking, as if unsure if such a thought should provoke a reaction from him like that. Yet…

"Trinity…" His voice slightly slurred as usually, closing his eyes to imagine what he had a firm grasp on just hours ago. He imagined the girl – no, the woman – and her reaction to every movement he took, every caress he gave her, every whisper in her ear. His mind replayed their fun…

Now he had two reasons to stay awake despite being tired: the thought of losing Trinity and the burning of his lust reviving itself.

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"Oh!" The door opened and out almost ran a young lady. **(A/N: If anyone can tell me if I had described the maid's appearance, please tell me lol.) **"Uh…" she paused, having almost slammed into Alfred Pennyworth. "Can I…help you?" With each word, she studied the man who stood half a foot taller than her. He looked crisp, refined, and…gentleman-like. She liked it.

"Miss Antoinette? My name is Alfred Pennyworth, butler to Br-…" The butler started to introduce himself to the flustered young lady when she interrupted him.

"Oui, oui, Mademoiselle Trinity told me on the phone. I have my bags…there is not much, but I also brought Trinity some things as well." The young maid tilted her head, clearly ignorant or unbothered by the short distance between the two of them. "I…fear I might need help with one luggage."

It was the next day after Trinity's arrival at Wayne Manor. In that time, she had managed to contact and hire Annie, to ask her to gather some things from her room – there was no way she would go back home even if for a second – and managed to get bandaged up all over again. It had felt awkward with the butler helping her clean her cuts, but she figured that wouldn't last too long since her maid and long-time friend was soon to join her.

So now there was Alfred, driving Antoinette to her new home…the new job. With a soft sigh, Antoinette looked around the grounds as they pulled in. She spoke quietly but loud enough for the butler to hear, "Tell me, monsieur, how is Mademoiselle Trinity? I have been very worried…I heard that horrible man, the Riddler, kidnapped her…even the great Batman couldn't save her!"

It took all of Alfred's restraint not to smile at that since, in a way, Batman _had _saved her. "Please, call me 'Alfred'." Turning, he answered, "Miss Trinity has a few scrapes, a couple of cuts, and many bruises. They all should heal fine and without an infection – it seems that the Riddler took great care to make sure his weapons were clean."

There was a hint of sarcastic bitterness in his voice. "I believe there is more damage to her mentally than physically though." The man wasn't sure how to continue, how to voice his concerns as well as Bruce's. He and his boss had spent a good portion of the past night, after making sure the young Hariton was fast asleep, speaking about what could have happened. There was something in her behavior – like how she had nearly shouted 'no hospital' when they first got her – that made them wonder if something more had happened. Surely with Riddler's distasteful remarks with 'enjoying' his hostage/guest there had been more damage that first met the eye. Yet Alfred was too much of a gentleman to ask Trinity bluntly.

"I had thought similar when I first heard her voice on the phone." Antoinette confessed with her thinking parallel to Alfred's. "In time she will tell me – if there is anything to tell. I can take my bags from here…Alfred." His name left her lips a bit breathless, one that complied with her blush.

"If you say so, Miss Antoinette. Dinner will be ready shortly."

"Antoinette is my name, Alfred. Not 'miss'. Save that for Mademoiselle Trinity." A gentle smile left the man's heart fluttering long after she departed.

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Next chapter:

**we skip forward a couple of weeks; while Trinity is snooping around towards the night – Annie is off for the night and shopping – she overhears something said between Alfred and Bruce concerning her.**


	15. Listening In

**Thanks for the reviews!**

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It was two weeks since Trinity had regained her freedom back.

It was two weeks since she had been thrown away by the Riddler, like some old toy he didn't fancy anymore. Did it bother her? Yes and no. Although she hated him to some extent, she had willingly – or was it unwillingly? – given him her body…and he tossed her aside for money. Then again, he _was _a villain, so why should she be shocked?

No, she was just hurt. She was hurt for a foolish, even stupid, reason. She would get over it – as soon as she stopped waking up from nightmares and throwing up from them.

It was two weeks later when Trinity awoke from one of these horrible dreams. She had dreamt that the Riddler was in her room, sitting on her bed – this was now in the Wayne Manor, not her old home – with his henchmen hiding in the shadows. When she walked in, she was tied down while Bruce and Alfred, along with Annie, clawed and pounded at the door helplessly.

Now she awoke in a sweat, looking around to hear just the gentle waves of the ocean playing from her CD. The curtain was half-drawn, allowing the moonlight to slip in. Yet no where was Riddler or his henchmen.

Relieved yet shaking from the aftermath, she slid out of bed and placed her robe on before going out into the hall. It was a bit after midnight and still Annie wasn't back – she was given the night off, meaning she was probably out dancing or something. Who knew…

Because it was after midnight, she knew that that meant no one was awake. Although she was still hesitant about making her own tea, fearing she'd burn herself, she felt that a good cup of it would calm her nerves. Perhaps she could even find some of the cookies Alfred had baked earlier!

Walking down the silent hall with her feet crushing the carpet, she was surprised to hear a noise. It wasn't a sudden one, but a voice. Who was up at this hour? And why? Though still on edge from her nightmare, Trinity tip-toed towards the noise. Next to a door that was an inch open, she stood. The voice was coming from here and it was Bruce's! Not long after she recognized him did she hear another – Alfred!

"Just as Master Dick had found out, so will Miss Trinity. It is only a matter of time, Master Bruce. If not her, then her maid Annie."

Although the mood of the conversation seemed to be solemn, Bruce couldn't help but tease, "Uh, 'Annie'?"

"She requested I call her such and I am not one to deny a request from a lady." Alfred's tone hinted he was blushing, embarrassed.

"From a beautiful one at that." Bruce added before getting back on track. "She will not find out. Not for a while – and if she does, I will deal with it then. Trinity has been ill for the past few days anyway, she won't be sneaking around. Just as long as we both are careful…"

Trinity's brows furrowed. What was the meaning of this? What wouldn't she find out for a while? Did Annie know about this? What was going on?!

"And when she gets better, if she finds out…_when _she finds out your secret, she will want revenge on the Riddler." Alfred stated calmly, unknowingly sending a chill down the eavesdroppers spine. Trinity felt her knees buckle, sending her onto the ground as she listened. Thankfully the carpet absorbed any thud she would have created.

Looking through the keyhole that she was level with now, she saw Bruce's back to her and Alfred facing the door, and Bruce. "Then I'll have to convince her that revenge isn't the way." Bruce said as he shifted a bit, getting some drink off of the desk.

Alfred hesitated but remained looking collected. "She's been sick a lot in the mornings." It was a different topic but one that was still serious, apparently.

Whatever Bruce had grabbed was now dropped. "…You think she's…?"

"I don't know, but I do know – or suspect – that the Riddler did not just keep her there as a China Doll. Why else would she have reacted to the idea of going to a hospital like that? I saw the bruises, you saw the bruises on her stomach and her legs…Annie mentioned a few healing ones on her thighs. I don't believe that was coincidence."

Trinity felt a sharp flare of anger and humiliation at Alfred's correct guess. Although they hadn't said it bluntly, they suspected that they knew she had been raped – or had sex. Either way, they knew.

Trying to keep from making any noise, the girl closed her eyes and listened to their voices as her stomach churned and her heart sped. "If what I think happened to her is correct," the butler went on, "then she will want the Riddler injured or dead when she finds out the truth. She'll also be angry with you when she realizes you didn't, couldn't, have saved her as Batman."

Trinity gasped suddenly as she grabbed the doorframe as support. Bruce was the Batman?! The shock of this sudden information was interrupted when the door opened, revealing two sheepish, alarmed men staring down at her. Dread crept over her. Her heart raced twice as fast, her fingertips shaking as they rested on the doorframe. From her kneeling position, she felt overwhelmed. Before either males could speak, she fainted.

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Next chapter: Trinity awakens…Riddler starts his next big plan to kill the Batman…but first he needs money – so he steals from Bruce Wayne and runs into his recent victim, the girl that had been on his mind for weeks.


	16. Riddle 4

**No idea what I had been thinking of during Spanish class, but I came up with this and, if I may say so, IT IS BRILLIANT!!!**

**By the way…who thinks I should re-write chapter 14?**

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"Miss Trinity?"

"Mademoiselle Trinity?"

Two different voices reached her ears. After a few moments, the female voice spoke again, "What could have made her faint? Never had she done such a thing when we were back in the old house."

"I fear I haven't the foggiest." The male spoke, both of them having an accent. "I opened the door and she was on the ground, unconscious." The hint of nervousness was hardly noticed.

Trinity's eyes slowly opened to spot the sources: Antoinette and Alfred.

"Mademoiselle! How are you feeling?" The French maid all but jumped to ask, looking worried. Judging from the light sneaking into the room, it was just before dawn. "Can I get you anything?"

Licking her lips with a dry tongue, Trinity managed to croak, "Water." The maid nodded and ran out. Her eyes landed on Alfred as soon as the door was shut. Clearing her throat a couple of times, she found herself lost.

Alfred looked slightly out of place; he looked nervous and almost ashamed. "Where is Bruce?" Trinity asked, and then paused. "Batman…Bruce is the Batman." The statement came out as a shock.

"He is out." Alfred answered. He then sighed. "Miss Trinity, I am begging you, please do not tell Annie or anyone else about this. I was trying to convince him, you realize as you listened, to trust you with the secret…please prove me right on this." Although she hadn't been living with him for so long, she suspected this was the first time in his life that he was begging.

Licking her lips once more, for it was hard to talk, she whispered, "I won't. I won't tell her…I'm still so…shocked."

"I know. It will take a while to adjust. At the moment, he is trying to do damage control for Wayne Industries…he is not Batman, for now." There was a hint of humor in Alfred's tone though he remained grave.

Before the young lady could reply, the maid ran back in with a cold glass of water. "Here. Are you okay?"

After taking a long sip, she nodded and was about to speak…when a noise caught her attention. It was the knocking on a door. "I will get that." Annie spoke before Alfred could, running off. "Make sure she is okay, Alfie!"

"…Alfie?" Trinity's eyes lit up a bit as she slowly stood from her bed, wincing. Her body was sore…of course it didn't help that she was feeling light-headed. "When did that come into play?" Although she was still in shock of the secret she discovered, she was still amused. Still in her nightgown, a simple lace dark blue gown.

"Uh…here, let me help you." To dodge the question, he grabbed her arm gently and helped her out of the room and into the hallway. She was about to laugh at him, to poke fun at him despite feeling a bit out of it still…but a shrill scream from Annie interrupted her.

Instantly both Alfred and Trinity, despite being tired, ran down the stairs. "Annie? What's wrong?"

"Annie!" Alfred exclaimed, his steps faltering as soon as he looked to see what had happened. Trinity did the same a moment after, looking up from the stairs. Both of them felt their hearts skip a beat: the Riddler stood there with Antoinette being held by his henchmen.

A new wave of dizziness and shock, fear even, washed over Trinity; the Riddler stood inside her new home, inside Wayne Manor. And Batman was nowhere near…nor was Bruce, as if there were a difference.

Since they were struck dumb, it took both the butler and the ward a moment to realize they were in the grasp of the henchmen. Trinity felt a shiver of fear travel down her spine…it felt like déjà vu. "Ah, so I see the magnificent Bruce Wayne is not home." There was a hint of arrogance and sarcasm in the Riddler's tone. It made Trinity's heart skip, almost as if she were going to faint again.

Without hesitation, there was a reply. "What do you want?" Alfred demanded, making his presence known.

Perhaps suspecting what had truly happened, Annie was twice as protective of Trinity. "Get out, you are not welcome! I will claw your eyes out, leave!"

The long haired man looked over at Annie and raised his brows. As he let his eyes roam her body, his grin grew slowly. "So the millionaire playboy has a French maid…where's the flattering standard uniform, hm?"

"Release her this instance!" The butler dutifully came to her rescue before the villain could even walk closer. "Now!"

As Edward turned to scowl, he paused and looked at the young female in a blue silk nightie next to the old man. He studied her for a brief few seconds before a new light spread throughout his eyes: recognition. "Trinity…Hariton." The man's slurred voice left as a whisper, his smile almost gentle. "My, my…I heard Wayne had a new girl but I never expected you to be her!" His eyes raked up and down her body slower than previous. The past few weeks had been hell for him; this young lady had plagued him in his sleep, had teased him in his daydreams. And now there she was…a repeat of the past. "He seems to be taking good care of you. Perhaps too good; you look a little chubby."

Trinity's face lit up in humiliation as she glared hatefully. Something in Alfred's look at the last word made her flash back to the conversation she had listened in on. Perhaps she was "chubby" because…

"I came here for money but seeing as I found a treasure…" the man twirled his cane, making the young woman shiver, "…boys, take her to her room and lock her in there. I'll be there shortly." As she fought against the henchmen, she was carried up the stairs.

Though she tried to resist, she let out squeals of frustration and rage. They responded by merely smirking, clearly imagining what was going to happen to her in their minds, and picked her up by her arms so her feet did not touch the ground.

The journey there felt like they were walking a long road. She wondered what was going on downstairs. Was Alfred okay? What about Annie, would she fall victim to Riddler's savage lust just because of her looks?

As soon as she was thrown into her room, which she had left merely minutes ago, the girl looked wildly for something to use as a weapon. The two brutes had thrown her inside and closed the door, staying out to guard it. There was no way she would be able to jump out the window since it was too high…and to reach the vents would be too dangerous; if she stacked things up and the green-suited man walked in…oh she shuddered. Such pain!

There was a muffled voice at the door – how much time had passed, how much time had she spent thinking of how to escape, how to survive? Not knowing, she blindly grabbed a small bust, a small statute of a head (she couldn't recall the person it was of), and ran into her bathroom. There she hid behind the door, her body trembling as soon as the bedroom door opened slowly.

There was a second of silence where she had foolishly hoped it was Bruce or Alfred or Annie…or Batman – yet why would Batman use a door? Her grip on the bust loosened just for a second until she heard a voice. "Tsk, tsk, Trinity…playing childish games? Alright, I can play them and win." It was the Riddler…shockingly enough.

"**What is fun for the perpetrator,**

**Cruel to the victim,**

**And shouted in large groups?"**

She could hear his cane moving through the air swiftly followed by fabric swishing around as well: he had moved the curtains. Then there was silence once more, the kind that made her skin slick with sweat. The small statue shook as did her hands. Where was he?

Her question was answered almost instantly for the softest of shuffles echoed…he just stepped into the bathroom, and the clink of his cane on tile confirmed it. At that moment the answer to the riddle as well snapped into her mind. Braveness, or perhaps stupidity, took over and forced her to slip out from behind the door. Above her head was the bust of Mozart (she suddenly recalled the name at that moment) which flew down towards Edward's head as she screamed the ironically timed answer to the riddle. "**Surprise**!"

And although the Riddler did indeed look surprised, he recovered just as swiftly. Up his cane went to meet the statue, throwing it and its holder off to the side. Trinity stumbled and barely caught herself on the wall, looking over to see the cane coming down on her now. With a gasp, she pushed herself away and nearly fell over again.

"You shouldn't have done that, girl!" He growled as he swung again, watching her dodge it and attempt to run to the window. Though he was sure she wouldn't jump, he wasn't sure that she might have some sort of secret plan to escape. Tackling her onto the bed, he dropped his cane off to the side on the large bed and wrestled with her arms. Soon she found them pinned above her head and something hard against her thigh. "This was much easier when you were drugged!"

She stopped her movement, staring at him. Drugged? Perhaps that was why she hadn't resisted…why she liked it…no, that wasn't all of the cause. Or was it?

"Wait!" She demanded suddenly, feeling panic flutter in her body. "You can't! I'm…I'm…"


End file.
